- 12 -
The tavern was full like any other day by nightfall. But this time there was no loud voices or laughter inside. Nobody played dice nor bet on roosters. The girls had gotten a free afternoon. And outside, flanking the closed door, Maxó and De Neill kept everybody from disturbing the meeting taking place inside.
The pirates listened seriously to their captain. Nobody had any questions, and when Wan Claup asked them to raise their hands if they were willing to sail with him on a patrol to defend Tortuga, each and every one of them replied holding their fists high.
Wan Claup smiled and took a moment to sip the excellent Oporto the owner had opened for him.
“That’s not all,” he said with his usual poise. “My niece Marina will be joining us as cabin boy. All of you know her, but I’m not forcing anyone to sail with a woman. So those of you who are not interested just have to say so. However, I need to know right now, because once we set sail, I won’t allow gossiping or quarrels onboard. Those who’d rather step back will be released from their commitment to the Sovereign, and will be welcome back whenever they want. Johannes Laventry and Harry Jones are completing their crews as well. No women. So you can go see them tomorrow at the docks if you want to enroll on the Royal Eagle or the Sparta.” Wan Claup signaled Morris, who stood near the door, and smiled to speak in a firm way. “Thank you very much to all of you. What follows is only for those staying in my crew.”
Morris opened the tavern door and stood there, folded arms, meaning to memorize every face that was about to walk out by his side. A dozen men killed their drinks, knuckled their forehead at Wan Claup and left. The others saw them off with sharp taunts and asked for more drinks. The corsair noticed Charron’s sideways glances at the door, but did nothing to help the man make up his mind.
The meeting didn’t last much longer. They only had to go over the necessary chores to set sail within three days and decide who would take each. When they were about to leave, the Sovereign’s master gunner Jean La Ville raised his hand to get Wan Claup’s attention.
“Where will the pearl sleep, Cap’n?” he asked. “We cannot hang her hammock with ours.”
“Why not?” Wan Claup replied and smiled again, seeing his men’s faces.
“You expect the pearl to sleep with us?” Old Hans asked in shock.
“She can hang her hammock over the aft chasers.”
“But that’s right by the hatch companionway! We all go up and down that way!” argued Sovereign’s surgeon Charlie Bones.
Wan Claup could but chuckle. All of a sudden those seasoned pirates, with many more scars than scruples looked about to cross themselves.
“Then she’ll better get up early, right?” he replied softly. “Come, gentlemen. Don’t worry about her. Rest assured she’ll be happy even if we hang her hammock from a crosstree. Go now. I’ll see you tomorrow at the dock.”
While the men left, Wan Claup stopped his lieutenant.
“I expected more honesty from you, Charron,” he said, lowering his voice so nobody else would hear. “I know you don’t agree with letting Marina join the crew, yet you didn’t say so. And I can’t trust a lieutenant who keeps things from me. So you’re dismissed.”
The man faced Wan Claup as if the corsair had backhanded him. Wan Claup held his eyes without a blink, until Charron looked down and nodded, tipping his hat at him.
“Aye, aye, sir,” he murmured, and left.
Morris waited for all of them to leave and joined Wan Claup.
“What’s with Charron, Cap’n? He looked like his mother died.”
Wan Claup offered him Oporto and shrugged. “I don’t need a lieutenant who doesn’t dare to speak up when he has to, even to tell me off.” He studied Morris with a slight frown, remembering the night he’d found the young man with Marina in the barn, two years earlier. Morris had dared to speak up even though Wan Claup was mad at him. “You’ll take his place, boy.”
Morris’s eyes widened like grapefruits. He opened his mouth, but was unable to utter a single word. Maxó and De Neill joined them.
“Good, we’re still about sixty,” Maxó said. “We don’t even need to look for replacements.”
Wan Claup signaled the owner to bring more wine and glasses for them and invited the pirates to share a table with him. De Neill whistled when he saw the bottle the owner carried.
“For my granny’s beard, Cap’n! What’re we celebrating?”
“That we got rid of more than four nitwits,” Maxó replied, filling their glasses.
“I’d rather toast to my new lieutenant,” said Wan Claup with a wink.
The pirates saw Morris blush and turned to Wan Claup, surprised. He raised his glass and touched Morris’, while the young man was still speechless. The other two congratulated him loudly.
“What’re we going to do with the pearl, Cap’n?” asked De Neill over the second glass of wine.
“Treat her like any other ordinary seaman,” Wan Claup replied, serious again. “She wants to know the sailor’s life, so we won’t pinch pennies on it.”
“And what if we come across a merchantman or a gold galleon?” asked Maxó.
“We’re not going a-hunting, old wolf. We’ll be patrolling. We’re staying away from the shore and try our best to not come across any other ship.” Wan Claup turned to De Neill. “We’ll take it easy. Let’s take four or five days to the Mona Passage. Instruct the other pilots.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“And maybe we can go up to San Juan. That should give us two weeks at sea.”
“And you think two weeks will be enough to discourage the little pearl?” Maxó laughed. “I’d say we need two years from Cayona to San Juan without a single incident for her to give up.”
“Maybe we get lucky and we come across rough seas,” said De Neill. “A nice squall can scare the crap out of more than two thugs.”
“Then we’ll go a-hunting clouds, if not merchantmen, mate,” Maxó said.
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That night, Tomasa was bringing dinner when she heard Marina’s muffled cry from the dining room, and a noise as if somebody had pulled the tablecloth and all the china.
The woman hurried down the hall, so alarmed she didn’t knock to walk in. And she found Marina and Wan Claup on their feet and in each other’s arms. The girl cried and laughed at the same time, choking her uncle in her tight embrace. Still sitting at the table, Cecilia watched them with a smile and tears in her eyes.
It was a short dinner, because Marina was too anxious to eat or stay seated. Soon she ran to her room to open her clothes chest.
“Mother! I need more shirts! And more trousers!” she cried from there, half of her dresses scattered on the floor around her. “And I only have my riding boots! What kind of shoes should I wear, Uncle? I need to go to the general store first thing tomorrow!
“First thing tomorrow you must go to work at the Sovereign, child,” Cecilia said calmly, bringing her a tea.
“But—!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of your sailing wardrobe. Now drink this and try to sleep.”
Marina was about to grab the cup from her mother’s hands, but she smelled the tea and pursed her nose.
“Laudanum? I don’t need laudanum with my tea, Mother! I need trousers!”
“You won’t be needing any unless you learn some obedience, Marina.”
Wan Claup’s severe tone coming from the bedroom door made her frown.
“Starting tomorrow, you’ll live with sixty men entitled to give you orders. And it’ll be your duty to obey. That means doing whatever they tell you to do, whenever they tell you to do it, no matter what. But if you can’t even drink your tea…” Wan Claup left the sentence unfinished to make his words sound even more ominous.
Marina grabbed the cup and tried the tea. It tasted awful, but she fought back a grimace and emptied the cup without a word.
Cecilia and Wan Claup traded an amused glance.
“Now pick up this mess and go to sleep,” Wan Claup said, not softening his tone.
“Yes, Uncle,” the girl said, her eyes low.
“Yes, sir,” Wan Claup said. “I’m already your captain. So from now own you’ll only address me as sir or captain.”
“Yessir,” Marina muttered, repentant.
“Hurry up. I’ll wake you up at first light. That’s four-thirty.”
“Yessir.”
Marina started picking up her dresses to fold them and put them back in her chest, keeping her eyes down. Wan Claup winked at his sister and nodded for them to leave the girl alone.
“You didn’t need to be so harsh,” Cecilia whispered on their way to the library.
“Of course I did. Sea life is discipline above all, Cécile. Everyone has their place among the crew, owing respect to their peers and deference to their superiors. And in Marina’s case, all my men are her superiors. It’ll be something completely new for her. But those are the rules every sailor accepts when enrolling on a boat. It’ll be up to her to decide if she accepts them as well. And if not, she’ll know why she’ll never board another ship as anything but a passenger.”
Cecilia sighed, shaking her head slightly.
“What, sister? Second thoughts already?”
She poked his arm, trying to frown, but ended up mirroring Wan Claup’s smile.
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